Binding
by Princess Tyler Briefs
Summary: How would the story be different if Ben and Riley really were brothers? A lot more would change than you think…Some BoS spoilers.
1. Family

A/N: From the get-go, we must be clear that this is an AU story

**A/N:** From the get-go, we must be clear that this is an AU story. Riley was adopted by Patrick when he was a little kid. All of this WILL be explained, and the differences in the story and the characters steam from this. I swear to you, this isn't going to be like reading the movie.

You can thank _**save changes to normal**_ for a lot of these ideas. Seriously, she's the best brain-storming partner EVER.

Format info: this is going to be set up, due to a suggestion by _**save changes to normal**_ similarly to Psych episode, in that there will be a corresponding flashback for almost every chapter. The flashback will come before the chapter that is set either during the movie or close to it.

Now, enjoy!

**Disclaimer:** I don't own any characters, situations, or dialogue you recognize.

**Summary:** How would the story be different if Ben and Riley really were brothers? A lot more would change than you think…Some BoS spoilers.

_**Binding**_

_Chapter 1: Family_

Benjamin Franklin Gates was the most miserable fifteen-year-old on the face of the earth. He was completely sure of this, and there was nothing that anyone could say or do that would convince him other wise. After all, how many other fifteen-year-olds had to deal with a mid-life crisis their father had had years ago? Not many. Fewer still were going through one where their father had decided that he needed another KID to fill the empty space left in their family by Ben's mother leaving.

His father's logic was something to the extent of Ben needing a sibling to play with. It was flawed, at best, in the teenager's opinion. Even more so when he looked at the kids that were all running around screaming and laughing. He was far too old for _play_, and even if he wasn't these kids were too young to play with. Quite frankly, Ben didn't think his father had thought this through at all. He'd spent fifteen years as an only child and was perfectly content with that. He did NOT want to be in this room, surrounded by screaming, crying, giggling little kids.

For his part, his father was ignoring the icy glares the teenager was sending his way. Instead, he was surveying the room full of children with a wistful half smile. "Do you see any kids you like yet, Ben?"

"No. They're all loud. I don't like them." He wasn't going to go along with this, and his father couldn't make him. Patrick Gates may not care about Ben's happiness in the slightest, but that didn't mean Ben couldn't make this whole thing as difficult as possible.

"Ben," there it was, the scolding look over the glasses he'd been waiting for all morning, "you should at least try. You were fine when we were getting approved to adopt a kid."

Saying that this was only because he hadn't actually believed they would allow a single middle aged man to adopt a child sounded a bit beyond mean, even in Ben's own head, so he decided to keep it to himself. Instead, he opted for a, "I didn't realize they'd be so…sticky."

Patrick smiled and ruffled Ben's hair affectionately, ignoring him again as Ben ducked away with a scowl. "Maybe you'll find you like one once you get used to it. I'm going to get a drink. Why don't you at least try to get to know a few of them while I'm gone?"

Ben humphed, crossing his arms over his chest. Why even bother trying? These kids were ignoring him completely. In fact, they seemed almost skittish around him as they were keeping a good three feet between themselves and him. They wanted to go with him as much as he wanted them to. Besides, most of the kids here were so young! He wouldn't know how to talk to them anyway.

This whole thing was a dumb stupid idea, and NOBODY cared that he thought so. He was the one whose life was going to be disrupted! He was going to have to share everything, and play nice, and…

He was startled out of his mental tirade by a small hand on his arm. Looking down, Ben found himself looking into a pair of large and incredibly blue eyes, half-hidden behind wild strands of coffee colored hair.

It was one of the kids, probably two or three years old. The little boy grinned once he realized he'd gotten Ben's attention, revealing a mouth full of tiny teeth, and pushed a book into Ben's lap, "read?"

The teenage picked up the bright green book curiously, turning it around so he could read the title. He made a face at what he saw: "Yertle the Turtle and other stories".

"Read," the child said again, more forcefully this time. When Ben made no move to comply, the boy reached up and opened the book for him, before pointing to the words and saying slightly louder, "read me."

Ben quickly weighed his options. If he read the book, it might look to his father like he was cooperating when he returned, and Ben certainly didn't want to give him any ideas about this being a good thing. On the other hand, if he didn't, the kid might start to cry, and that was a far less appealing option.

He looked the toddler up and down, sizing up the screaming potential. He may have had a scrawny frame, accentuated by the baggy shorts and too large Philadelphia Flyers jersey, and may have seemed innocent enough with his untied shoes and all, but Ben wasn't fooled. Oh no, it would take more than that to delude a Gates. That kid had some serious screaming potential somewhere inside him, of this he was positive.

There was really no choice.

"On the far away island of Sala-ma-Sond, Yertle the Turtle was king of the pond," Ben began, only to be stopped by the little boy tugging on his sleeve.

"Uh, uh. Up!"

"What?"

"Up," the boy said again, a slightly whiny tone in his voice, before he began forcefully trying to climb up into Ben's lap.

"Hey! Watch it! Stop!" Ben yelped in surprise, nearly dropping the book. He knew immediately that the harsh tone had been a wrong move as the blue eyes started to fill with tears. Groaning, Ben scooped the small boy all the way up into his lap. "Okay, okay. Better?"

The boy nodded, a grin spreading over his face and he pointed to the page. "More?"

"Sure." With a sigh, Ben adjusted the book so the child could see the pictures. "A nice little pond. It was clean. It was neat. The water was warm. There was plenty to eat."

"Eat," the boy echoed with a giggle, pointing excitedly to the word on the page and grinning up at Ben.

Ben couldn't help the corners of his mouth twitching at the boy's excitement. "Yeah, eat. Good job, kid"

He was rewarded with another shy giggle and the boy trying to hide his face in Ben's shirt. Ben chuckled at the little boy and adjusted the book once again. "The turtles had everything turtles might need. And they were all happy. Quite happy indeed…"

By the time he'd reached the part of the story where the turtle at the bottom of the pile complained about his king's fascist ways, the little one was pretty much reading along. Every once in a while, he would point and ask "read me 'gain, p'ease?" and then would repeat it slowly with Ben's help.

This amazed the older boy, who was only to happy to see how much the tot could do. He expected very young children to ignore the words and just want a story based on the pictures. This little one seemed to have some sense that the words on the page corresponded with the ones coming out of his mouth. Ben hadn't spent much time around little kids, but he was fairly certain this wasn't normal behavior.

Once the story had ended, he smiled at the little boy who was looking up at him eagerly. "What's you're name, kid?"

"I is Ri'ey," he responded eagerly. "You?"

"Ben." He took one of the small hands in his much larger one and shook it. "Pleased to meet you, Riley."

At least, he hoped that Riley was what he'd meant to say, as it had sounded more like Rye-ee, which wasn't a name he knew of, but he'd noticed the little boy had a tendency to completely drop his 'l's.

No correction about the name was forthcoming, as Riley jumped off his lap and quickly came back with another book. "Read me 'gain, p'ease?"

Ben groaned inwardly. You give a kid an inch. "Gees, Riley, I don't know. My Dad might be coming back soon.

Riley's face fell and he looked down at his shoes, "then you has to go?"

He wasn't going to feel bad for the kid. Nope, Ben would not allow himself to be drawn in by this poor pitiful me act. No matter how sad those large eyes looked or how much Riley's bottom lip trembled. "Yeah, probably soon."

"Oh…you come p'ay more 'ater?" Riley looked up at him hopefully, still holding the book tight to his chest.

"I…don't know, Riley. Maybe."

The small face brightened instantly and he toddled over to sit next to Ben again. "Okay. Ben come p'ay 'gain. We friends?"

Ben opened his mouth, ready to correct this idea, when he heard his father speak from behind him, "I see you took my advice then."

Ben scowled over his shoulder at him; sure he'd been standing here for a while. Patrick just smiled at him and took a step toward the pair. Riley watched Patrick approach with wide eyes, half hiding behind the teenager.

"Hey there, kiddo. What's your name?"

Riley shook his head, turning to completely hide his face completely in Ben's side. It tickled, and Ben squirmed a little in response, which caused Patrick to smile.

"This is Riley," Ben muttered, trying to push the small boy out of his hiding place without much success.

"Hello, Riley. How old are you?" The older man smiled kindly, and Riley slowly held up his had with two fingers raised.

"This many…and one half."

Ben rolled his eyes at this, but Patrick simply chuckled. "You're sure a brave boy, Riley, making friends with my son all by yourself."

Riley almost glowed at the praise, slowly disentangling himself from Ben's side. "Ben nice. Ben my friend."

"No, I…"

"I can see that," Patrick interrupted, shooting Ben a look the teen couldn't quite read. "How would you like Ben to come back and play with you on Saturday?"

The grin that split Riley's face looked almost painful as he nodded enthusiastically. "Yes! P'ease."

"Well, I think we can arrange that, Riley. I know Ben's excited about it too, aren't you, Ben?" His father looked at him expectantly, but Ben could only groan in response. His father had been sucked in by that evil charm!

Ben's opponent in the war to keep that status quo now had a name and a face, but that somehow wasn't encouraging because he had no idea how he was supposed to beat him.


	2. Family II

**A/N:** I really can't believe that no one has thought of this before! I forget EVERY time I watch the movie that they aren't brothers. I mean, really, Abby even words her "you're that family with the conspiracy theory" line as if she's talking to both of them. It's hard for me to remember that Riley's just…Riley.

P.S. - Please don't kill Patrick. He has his reasons. He just hasn't chosen to share them with his sons.

_**Binding**  
Chapter 2: Family II_

Ben settled into his over stuffed couch with a contented sigh. There were some perks to only being able to shop at second hand stores that, in Ben's opinion, out-weighed all the negatives. Like the fact that all his furniture had already been broken in and worn in all the right ways by a butt that was not his own. Never did he have to deal with pushy sales men who would convince you that the comfortable couch on the show floor would be what you got, only to find out the one brought to your house was no where near as squishy. He could just sink into his couch the first time without having to go through that awkward still-factory-starched phase.

Having now relished in his simple comforts for the appropriate length of time, the treasure hunter reached lazily over for his pizza box—fresh from the fridge—and the remote that was sitting next to it on his second-hand coffee table.

It was a cold and stormy Friday night, with finals for the fall semester still three glorious weeks away. He had all weekend to complete the homework necessary to obtain his second degree, and right now left over pizza and whatever TV movie he could find sounded much more appealing—no matter what his little brother believed Ben DID watch things besides The History Channel.

Just as Ben turned on the TV and started surfing for something that looked vaguely interesting, there was a sharp rapping on his front door. He put down his remote down and looked across the room in confusion. He wasn't expecting anyone. Most of his college friends had other plans for the evening, and those that didn't always called before dropping in on him.

There was a second knock, this one louder than before. Ben decided that any sales person crazy enough to be out in this weather deserved to at least be acknowledged, and stood to make his way just close enough to the door to be faintly heard by whomever was standing on the other side. "Who is it?"

"Ben?" Ben froze, hearing the voice he would recognize anywhere. "Open up! It's me!"

"Riley?" Now the treasure hunter began to move quickly, pushing his blue arm chair out of his way so he could reach the front door faster.

His little brother was standing on the other side, dripping wet and shivering. He was most inappropriately dressed for the pouring rain and freezing temperatures, wearing only a ragged pair of jeans, tennis shoes, a Star Wars tee-shirt, and a backpack slung over one shoulder.

Ben opened his mouth to say…something…but Riley beat him to it. "Ben, I don't know whether I believe the treasure is real or not, but I believe in _**you**_ and that's enough for me."

The older man frowned in confusion, having no idea what kind of opening speech that was. It was certainly uncharacteristic of Riley, who would normally have some smart-aleck comment about Ben leaving his guests standing out in the cold. He stored it away for later and instead reached out, grabbing Riley by the wrist and dragging the shivering young man inside, "get in here before you catch your death."

"I'm sorry for not c-calling first. Th-this was k-kind of l-last minute," the eighteen-year-old managed to get out through his chattering teeth, looking with mild interest at the puddle he was already dripping all over his older brother's carpet.

"You don't have to call to drop in on me, baby brother." Ben fully expected the usual protest from Riley about how Ben couldn't keep calling him that since he wasn't a baby any longer. All he got was a weak sort of half smile and more shivering.

Ben took the backpack from his younger brother and gave him a firm shove towards the bathroom. "Go get in the shower, squirt."

"But I've already had my shower today," Riley complained, though he moved in the indicated direction with little hesitation. "Really, Ben, how much cleaner do you need me to be?"

He chose not to comment on that, knowing that Riley knew he was intended to try and warm up with a hot shower, and if you fed him with attention he would be unable to resist making more comments. Instead, he left to go dig out some clothes and blankets for his brother, trusting that Riley would know where to go. This wasn't the first time his brother had come to visit him in this apartment. It was just the first time he'd suddenly appeared without at least a day's warning.

He dumped the backpack onto his bed and opened it quickly to see if Riley had brought any clothes with him. It turned out he had, but they were useless as the two pairs of clothes were just as soaked as the pack they'd been in. The only thing dry was Riley's laptop, which he'd had the foresight to put in one the waterproof bags he'd created just to put his treasured computer in.

Nothing in there gave him any clue as to why Riley was there, or what he was going to do with him, so Ben simply scooped the clothes up and tossed them in the dryer acrossed the hall before wandering back into his room and looking through his own clothes.

He flipped on the heater and pulled out a pair of pajama pants that Ben was a bit too tall for and a long sleeved shirt. The shirt wouldn't fit Riley quite right, but it would do for now. He put those on the heater—along with a pair of socks—to try and warm them up by the time Riley was done with his shower. He then took the laptop out of the bag and set it on the desk. He flipped it open, to check for water damage just in case, and frowned at the envelope he saw tucked between the screen and the keyboard.

It was one of the letters he's sent to his younger brother. He picked it up and inspected the postage stamp, confirming that it was the most recent one.

It was half-amusing, as Riley always teased him about writing snail mail letters instead of sending an e-mail, and half-confusing for the same reason. Some how, he was sure of it, this letter had something to do with Riley's sudden appearance on his doorstep at eleven o' clock at night.

Ben picked up the letter and the clothes, moving towards where he could still hear the water running. He poked his head in, feeling his skin start to prune the moment in came in contact with the steam. "You dethawed yet?"

"Nearly," came the response. Riley's tone was impossible to read, but at least his teeth weren't chattering any more.

"Take as long as you need. I've got some clothes set out on the counter here for you."

"Thanks."

Ben laid the clothes on the counter just as he said he would, and made a retreat towards the kitchen with the letter still in his hand. Once there he set about putting the pot on to boil for some hot chocolate. Riley would want coffee, but Ben tried to discourage that habit in his still growing brother. Riley was small enough with the extra caffeine stunting his growth.

He hopped onto the counter and pulled the letter out of the envelope, justifying to himself that it wasn't snooping since he was the one that had written it. He was just refreshing his memory was all.

A quick reading told him that there wasn't anything special about this letter in particular. It was fairly standard, discussing his week, his new theory that Charlotte may not be a person but an object of some sort, and the standard invitation for Riley to join in his search when ever he wanted now that he was old enough.

He never expected Riley to really take him up on the offer. His little brother had an opinion on the Templar Treasure that was a kind of middle ground between Ben's and their father's. Riley believed that there may have in deed been a treasure, but its size and importance had been greatly exaggerated in rumors to distract the British from the war, and it had since been spent by the US Government. He though Ben's search was futile and teased him about it constantly. As much as it bothered him sometimes, Riley's approach was certainly preferable to their father's open hostility to any and all things treasure related.

Ben frowned, remembering what Riley had said. I don't know whether I believe the treasure is real or not, but I believe in _**you**_ and that's enough for me. Not only had Riley, not Ben, been the one to bring the treasure up, but his younger brother had also stated that it was possible he believed in it. Everything he'd learned about his brother the last sixteen years told him that this just wasn't right. Riley was not the kind of person to rush into something without having made up his mind about it one way or the other, and even less the kind of person to change his mind once he had reached a conclusion.

There was a piece to this puzzle missing. Probably the most important piece. Something had to have given Riley a push to come and join him in his treasure hunt…as that's what he intended to do if Ben was reading into what he'd said correctly.

He tore his eyes away from the letter when he heard the teenage stumbling down the hall. Riley looked better after his shower, with some color having returned to his face, and he was currently rolling up the sleeves on the shirt so they wouldn't be hanging over his fingers. "I'm pretty sure you'll be out of hot water for the next year."

"We'll just have to bathe the old fashioned way then," Ben smiled, pulling down two mugs from the cupboard and placing them on the counter.

"Everything with you is old fashioned," Riley muttered, flopping down on the couch and grabbing the remote from where Ben had dropped it. "Including your channels, from the look of it."

Ben rolled his eyes, scooping the cocoa into the mugs and adding the down boiling water before joining his brother on the couch. "It's not my fault that my basic cable doesn't meet your picky technological tastes."

His little brother took the mug offered him without even a breath of complaint, a sure sign that things were not right because he ALWAYS complained, and took a long sip.

Ben raised an eyebrow in surprise, putting his mug on the table. "We need to talk, Riley."

"Can't it wait until tomorrow," the teenager muttered down to his mug, swirling it idly back and forth.

"Sorry, kiddo," Ben reached over and took the mug from him, setting it on the table next to his own, "but I don't think it can."

"If you don't want me here, I can leave." Riley still wasn't looking at him, something Ben found more than a little unsettling.

"You know that's not what I was saying. I just want to know why, that's all. You probably picked the worst night ever for traveling. You'll catch pneumonia again running around in weather like this."

Riley gave a one armed shrug in response, curling up on himself slightly. Ben went over to the hall closet, retrieving his heaviest extra blanket and dropping it on the teen. Riley smiled at him gratefully as Ben settled down for a long conversation, putting his feet up on the coffee table. "Let's start from the beginning. How did you get here?"

"Took a bus, and let me tell you, it's a long and incredibly boring ride. My laptop battery even died on me halfway here. It was awful and unfair."

"You walked from the bus station?" He chose not to address that Riley had ridden all the way down to MIT from Philadelphia in the middle of the night. He could lecture him about how stupid that was later. "I could have come to pick you up. Why didn't you call me?"

Riley simply shrugged again, pulling his blanket tighter around him as if it could protect him somehow. Making himself as small as possible when he was sure he was going to get in trouble was an old habit of his, and Ben braced himself mentally for whatever Riley had to tell him. "First off, I didn't think your truck would make it all that way."

Ben scowled, giving his brother a playful shove. His clunker of a truck that he'd had since high school was just one more item on the long list of things Riley loved to tease him about. "And?"

"And…well…I didn't have any money to call with. I didn't exactly have a chance to grab much before I left."

"How'd you get the bus fare?" The under-lying question being 'why did you take the bus at all', which Ben was certain he made clear by the tone of his voice.

Riley, though he was certain his brother had gotten it, chose to ignore it. "Some lady gave it to me, once I assured her that I wasn't running away from somewhere. I've got her address, somewhere, so I can send the fare back."

This wasn't getting them anywhere, and only making Ben feel more sick to his stomach. It was time for different tactics. Namely, giving Riley no other options. "Riley, what happened? If you wanted to come why didn't Dad come with you? Or at least give you a ride?"

Riley's gaze dropped to the floor as he pulled the blanket over his head like a hood. "I really don't feel like talking about it."

"Riley…"

With a very put upon sigh, the teenager rolled his eyes up to meet his older brother's. "I…Dad and I had a fight. About…stuff."

"Me." Ben supplied, swallowing the sick feeling that was rising up his throat. He'd always tried not to get Riley in the middle of the arguments at home, but his father seemed to think that since Riley was part of the family he had to be part of all of it.

"Yeah," the teenager winced, as if realizing that might not have been the gentlest way to put that. "Kind of. He said you were throwing away all your potential and you…can we talk about this later? Please, Ben?"

One look at the exhaustion in those blue eyes, and Ben felt his resolve to get this talked about melt away. If he didn't want to talk about it now, he didn't have to, but they would eventually—the older Gates promised himself that much.

Riley relaxed only a little at his brother's nod, and took a steadying breath before speaking again. "Ben, can I ask you something?"

"Sure thing, Riley."

"Can I move in with you?"

The elder man froze, his fists suddenly clenching on his lap. Maybe he shouldn't have allowed a deferment so soon. "This isn't just a visit, is it?"

Brown bangs fell down into Riley's eyes as he shook his head. "I had to make a choice. He said if I walked out that door, it wouldn't…wouldn't be open for me to come back…"

Ben unclenched his fists and wrapped his brother in a tight hug, pretending not to notice that sudden dampness on his shoulder wasn't all from Riley's still dripping hair. "Of course you can."


	3. Trust

**A/N:** More fun with teenage Ben! I hope he's acting like a teenager. I'm never sure I'm writing things appropriate to age. If you think I'm not, please let me know, with suggestions on how to fix it, if possible.

_**Binding  
**__Chapter 3: Trust_

If he let his head rest against the glass long enough, Ben was sure he'd melt into it. And life as a car window sounded more appealing than his own future at the moment. He was getting his little brother today.

People seemed to think he should be happy about this, but Ben couldn't understand why. Adopting a child wasn't his idea, or even something he particularly wanted. There were so many unforeseen negative drawbacks! For example, he'd spent days shopping with his father. Not only shopping, something Ben disliked generally, but for the first time they were shopping for things Ben would never use.

Always in the past, there had been no one else to shop for. He got to help pick what they had for dinner, and never had to worry that someone else might not want it. Now, he and his father had spent hours looking at and debating about sheets for Riley, clothes for Riley, toys for Riley, even SOCKS for Riley! If he had to look at one more pair of tiny shoes, Ben was going to snap.

In addition to that, every weekend of the last two months had been spent playing with the two-year-old. That had been bad enough. Now, he was going to spend every day doing just that. His Dad, and the orphanage head Ms. Louis, kept insisting that Ben was having fun and the pair of them were perfect together. Nobody seemed to care about Ben's protests that Riley was whiny, boring, and babyish. In fact, his father had once told him that those complaints were why Ben and Riley got along so well. Ben hadn't made those complaints out loud since.

"We're almost there, Riley," Patrick grinned into the back seat, using his rearview mirror. Ben shot a glance back to see the little boy squirming in his car seat. "Are you excited?"

"Uh-huh," Riley nodded, holding the stuffed bear Ms. Louis had given him as a going away present. "Is it a b'ue house?"

"No, it's white." Ben muttered into his palm as he continued staring gloomily out the window. "Plain old boring and white."

"It is big?" Riley asked, sounding a little more subdued than last time. Patrick glared at Ben as if this was his fault, something Ben ignored.

"Is it big, Riley," the teen corrected, getting some satisfaction out of the scowl his father gave him. Aside from annoying his father, the toddler's grammar really was driving him nuts. It is big wasn't a question; it was a statement. If he HAD to have a little brother, and at this point it was looking that way, it would be one that could speak properly.

"I don't know," Riley pouted back at him. "I asked you."

Patrick chuckled, and now it was Ben's turn to scowl. Little kids were so frustrating!

"No, Riley. You say it…"

Patrick turned sharply into the driveway, interrupting Ben as he clunked against the window and Riley squealed with delight. "We're here."

"Ben, it IS big," the toddler informed him happily as Ben rubbed his head and gave his father a dark look.

"Yes, thank you, Riley."

"We'come."

The teenager sighed, beginning a mental countdown of how many days it would be until he turned eighteen while his father put the car in park and turned it off.

Ben began deliberately moving slowly, having no real desire to help his father get the now squirming tot out of his car seat. This was part of the joy and satisfaction Patrick had been telling Ben about for weeks, after all. He should be allowed to enjoy every moment of it.

So, instead of going to grab something from the backseat, he stood outside the car, hands in the pockets of his denim jacket, as his father struggled to pick up both the excited toddler and the backpack carrying all his belongings from the adoption center.

"Thank you so much for your help, Ben," the elder Gates muttered once he could stand up right again.

"You're welcome," was Ben's cheerful response.

Riley's eyes, always abnormally large and bright, looked kind of like someone had replaced them with painted ping-pong balls. Ben couldn't decide whether the child looked more excited or terrified. Riley untangled one arm from around Patrick's neck and pointed at the house. " 'ots of a other peop'e?"

"No, Riley, it's just me and Ben…and now you, too." Patrick smiled, gently nudging Riley's forehead with his own. Ben suppressed a gag and mentally swore he was going to fix the little boy's problem with 'L's.

Riley looked puzzled at this information and put his head on Ben's father's shoulder. "But…there's 'ots of windows. Aren't there other friends?"

Ben felt his heart do something weird in his chest at the puzzled and almost frightened look on Riley's face. The little guy had never lived in a place that didn't have hundreds of other hyper active children falling all over the place—or it seemed like it, anyway, and Ben had never bothered to count them. The idea of living in a place that must seem huge to him without all those people had to be terrifying.

It was a moment of weakness, one that Ben would always deny if asked later, but he couldn't help it as he reached out and gently ruffled the toddler's hair. "No worries, kiddo. We'll have lots of fun exploring and stuff."

The terrified look on Riley's face was replaced with a hopeful one in record time. "Rea'y? Promise?"

Ben snatched his hand back and returned it to his pocket as punishment for betraying him. "Yeah, sure."

Riley smiled at him a little shyly as Patrick opened the door and shoved the backpack at his son. "Ben, why don't you show Riley where his room is while I go start making grilled cheese for lunch?"

"I 'ike gri'ed cheese!" Riley said happily, latching on to Ben's leg when he was put down.

"I don't," Ben muttered, reaching down to grab the small hand attached to his jeans. It wasn't strictly true. He liked grilled cheese fine when his mother made it. His father just had a tendency to think that black, not brown, meant it was done. "Come on, short stuff, let's get you upstairs."

The teenager left Riley in the newly converted guest room across the hall from his own, with instructions to put his things where he wanted them and then come down the stairs. He doubted highly that Riley had even heard him, as the two-year-old was too busy staring around in shock at all the things that were already there.

Ben sauntered downstairs, joining his father in the kitchen and hopping up to sit on the counter.

The older Gates sighed when he saw Ben alone, "you just left him up there by himself?"

"He's fine, Dad. We spent the last month baby proofing everything, remember. He won't hurt himself."

"That's not what I was worried about, Ben. This is a new experience for him, and probably very frightening. You could at least try and be considerate of his feelings."

Ben scowled at the reprimand, swinging his feet so they banged loudly against the counter. "You shouldn't baby him so much. He'll never grow up if you do."

Patrick sighed, shaking his head as he flipped the sandwich over. "I don't know what you have against the kid, Ben, but you need to get over it. If you're mad at me, that's fine, but leave Riley out of it."

Ben said nothing, just continued to let his feet hang. His dad was right of course. Riley hadn't really done anything wrong; he was only a little kid. Then again, if the toddler hadn't been so pushy about being friends, Ben might have been able to convince his father that this whole thing was a bad idea, like he'd been trying to do in the first place.

"Hey, I've got an idea," Patrick sounded pleased with himself, and Ben rolled his eyes. "Why don't you and Riley have a backyard camp out next weekend? It would be fun and great brotherly bonding time…"

"I'm going to Mom's next weekend." The anger in Ben's voice startled even himself a little bit. "I haven't seen her in months because I've had to spend every weekend with Riley."

"Ben, this transition period is crucial. Your mother will understand if you…"

Something inside Ben's chest gave way a little, and he jumped to his feet. His eyes were burning slightly, though he didn't quite know why. "Look, just because you're so eager to pretend that Mom isn't part of this family anymore doesn't mean that I have to be. I _**want**_ to spend the weekend with her! Why don't you spend time with the replacement if you like him so much?"

"Benjamin Franklin Gates, you will not…" whatever he was not supposed to do, Ben never found out, as Riley choose that moment to wander into the kitchen, looking slightly lost. With a snort out of his nose, probably to signal that they weren't finished, the elder Gates turned around and picked Riley up.

"Come on, kiddo. Let's get you fed, okay?"

Riley just nodded, refusing to look up at meet Ben's eyes. The tightness in Ben's chest moved down to form a knot in his stomach. How much of that had the kid heard anyway? How much had he understood?

The chance to ask Riley about it, or to continue that conversation with his father, didn't come up as the rest of the day was spent getting Riley familiar with the house. They must have visited every room at least six times, and by the end of the day Ben was exhausted. He curled up in bed, ready to just sleep and think for a little while that this whole situation was some kind of bad dream.

He was hovering on the edge of sleep when the sound of someone opening his door snapped him awake. Ben remained with his eyes closed, feigning sleep. If his father wanted to talk about what he'd said, they could do it in the morning.

A weight on the end of his bed blew that plan out of the water, and Ben sat up so fast he made himself dizzy. "Who?"

"Ben?" Frightened blue eyes stared back at him, and it took Ben a moment to process who it was. He'd forgotten there was another person in the house.

With a groan, Ben fell back onto his pillows. "It's too late to play now, Riley. Go back to bed."

"Ben," Riley whimpered again, scooting closer. "It's quiet."

"Yes, Riley, it's nighttime. It's supposed to be quiet."

"Dark." The toddler protested, now nearly sitting in Ben's lap.

"Yes, Riley, it's bed time, so you're supposed to…" he looked up then, intent on dragging the kid back to his new toddler bed if he had to, and froze. Riley was trembling head to foot, obviously scared out of his mind.

Of course. He would never have slept alone before. Ms. Louis said Riley had been with them since he was eighteen months old, and the kids at the home always shared with at least one other person. The darkness and quite must have been huge and frightening for him.

Unhappy though he may have been, Ben wasn't heartless. He sat up and pulled the little one into his arms and cuddled him close. "It's okay, Riley. I'm right here, see? You're not alone, kiddo, okay? I promise you won't be alone."

"Ben won't 'eave me?" Riley whispered in response.

"Of course not."

"Even, though you is mad?"

"Mad?" Ben was momentarily confused before he remembered how Riley had probably over heard them earlier. He sighed, hugging the kid tight. That was probably why he'd chosen to come to Ben instead of his father. He wanted to make it up to Ben somehow. "I'm not mad at you, squirt. Not really."

"Mad at Dad?"

"Yeah, a little bit."

"Cause of me?" Riley's fists clenched tightly in Ben's night shirt, and the oldest of the pair smiled a little.

"Not really, Riley. I just…I miss my Mom, you know? She left when I was really little. I always hoped she'd come back, and we'd be a family again. But I guess…Dad just seems ready to accept that she's not."

Riley nodded, though Ben doubted he actually understood. "You're mommy nice?"

"Yeah, she is. I think you'll like her." Ben paused in thought. "You know…how about you come with me next weekend and meet her? I'm sure she'd like to get to know you."

"Rea'y?" Riley pulled back a little in his excitement so he could see Ben's face in the dark.

"Yeah, really." Ben smiled, ruffling the toddler's hair. "We'll talk to dad in the morning. For now, how about we try and get some sleep, okay?"

The toddler nodded again, burying his face in Ben's chest with a content sigh. "Night night, Ben."

"Good night, Riley."


End file.
